Hadrian Black
by TheDaemonthor
Summary: Andromeda raises Harry to be the next Lord Black. Massively AU, Weasley/Dumbledore bashing, most likely Harry/Multi. rated M to be on the safe side
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or the world he inhabits. That all belongs to J.K Rowling and presumably some other fellas._

Andromeda Black paused on the doorstep of the house that (she hoped) held the answer to all her problems, a brief shiver of fear overtaking her momentarily. The course she was about to embark upon would pit her against Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards of the last century. It was enough to give even the bravest pause. His formidable grasp of magic notwithstanding, he was a master manipulator, presenting a carefully prepared façade to the public that led his so-called allies to trust him implicitly and his enemies to constantly underestimate him. To oppose him openly was tantamount to political suicide, and rare was the scheme that escaped his notice.

Yet her Black blood sung at the challenge, anticipation of the trials to come suffusing her limbs with a warmth she hadn't felt in far too long. She felt alive with the knowledge that the events set in motion tonight would shake the foundations of the wizarding world, and that it would be the Black family doing the shaking. _In fact, _she thought suddenly, _I haven't felt this good since I cut ties with the dead wood of the family tree_

_FLASHBACK___

__"Welcome back, representatives of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black. I trust you acted as befits your blood during the school year?" came the aristocratic tones of Andromeda's mother Druella as soon as they flooed in. House Elves appeared, appropriating the five teens' trunks and relocating them to their respective rooms.

"I very much doubt it Druella." Came the harsher, raspy tones of Sirius' and Regulus' mother Walburga from beside her. "While our youngest three may have upheld the name, our eldest are nothing but a disappointment. Consorting with blood traitors, like as not mudbloods as well! I still say we should kill them Dru."

"I am aware of what you say, Burga, but this is the best course for all involved. Sirius, Andromeda, we are giving you one last chance to act as befits your station. If you refuse to cooperate, we shall have you expelled from the family and cast out to die as peasants."

"I'm afraid you don't have that power my dear aunt," began Sirius, not noticing Regulus, Narcissa and Bellatrix moving away and reaching for their wands. "all expulsions must be approved by Lord Black, who will be me in about two years. The regent appointed until I reach my majority also lacks the authority to legitimise expulsions, and I'm hardly going to sign off on my own disownment am I?" he continued, a smirk growing on his face as he watched the rage ignite in the old women's eyes.

"Well, while we anticipated this problem and hoped you weren't well-versed enough in family law to call our bluff, I believe I may have a solution. A trifle inelegant, but such is often the case when diplomacy fails." Said Druella.

"Oh?" Sirius said, arching an eyebrow "Care to clue us in?"

"Why certainly my dear nephew." She raised her wand. "_Imperio._"

Andromeda was stunned. Her mother had just cast an unforgivable. Had _raised her wand against a family member_. Loyalty to the Blacks was stressed overall in their early schooling and, even with her dislike for her mother and aunt, the conditioning held back her initial flurry of curses. Her wand appeared in her hand, but she hesitated for that crucial second.

"Ah, Andromeda," cackled Walburga cruelly "Ever my least favourite niece. Why can't you be good like Trixie and Cissy? Why do you spit on everything we stand for as Blacks?"

"Because you're an inbred piece of shit with delusions of grandeur, Auntie." Andromeda replied, with an evenness she didn't feel. Her blood was up, her hands were shaking with the magically enhanced adrenaline pouring into her system but… to raise her wand on another Black… she just _couldn't_. It was _wrong_, they were _wrong_, the family had hit rock bottom and there was no denying it.

She looked at Sirius, keeping one eye trained on the five wands pointed at her. There would be no help from that quarter, unless he somehow managed to throw off the Imperius curse with no training. Her eyes widened as she noted that his eyes were free of the glassy look commonly associated with Imperius victims, her suspicions confirmed when, almost too quick to follow, one eyelid came slamming down in a wink.

_He is, or will be, Lord Black! _The thought came unbidden. _He IS the House of Black! To act against him is treachery, and those that do are unworthy of the Black name!_

"It really is a shame 'Dromeda, that you refuse to see reason." Druella began, in a fair impersonation of Dumbledore. "you see, it's all for the greater good of the family. The Dark Lord will reward us with riches untold, as long as we hold true to the cause."

"There is only one Lord of the Rings. And He does not share power!" came the solemn intonation from Sirius. As everyone bar Andromeda refocused on him, his wand came up and he began firing hexes left and right. Andromeda fought to keep the laughter from bubbling up at the muggle literature reference which she doubted the others would have found funny even if they understood, and followed his example, a piercing hex shooting from the tip of her wand towards Regulus' wand hand almost before the ramifications of Sirius retaining his free will sunk in.

The hex impacted Regulus' arm just above the wrist, spinning him around with a spray of blood and forcing him to drop his wand. Her follow-up _petrificus totalis_ went wide, but the _incarcerous_behind it was dead-on, cocooning him in ropes and taking him out of the fray. Behind her, Sirius had stunned Narcissa and Druella, but run into difficulties with Bellatrix. Bellatrix, unlike Regulus and Narcissa, had inherited the Black battle-lust much like Sirius and Andromeda had, but unlike the other two surrendered fully to it. Where they fought with a slight smirk on their faces, or the occasional chuckle escaping their lips, Bellatrix lost herself to the chemical cocktail bubbling through her veins and danced between the flying spells, laughing merrily all the while. Never mind that silent spell-casting should be impossible for a thirteen year-old, the eerie laughter never ceased issuing from her lips, even as the spells she used got progressively darker and Sirius had to draw upon ever-stronger shields.

Shivering slightly in anticipation of duelling such a dangerous opponent, Andromeda refocused on Walburga just in time to see a particularly dark bludgeoning curse headed for her face. She swayed out of the way and, snapping back upright into a formal duellist's stance, returned fire with a flurry of conjured darts. Even as they were blocked they were followed up by a piercing hex variant called "the woodpecker", which acted more like a series of piercing hexes spaced a half-second apart than anything else. As that pounded Walburga's shield, she threw a pair of bludgeoning curses out to increase the pressure a little more, and then summoned a spear from the wall behind her opponent.

Walburga was not a duellist, and it showed. She had the training given to all members of the Black family and knew some truly interesting curses but that wouldn't help her here. Pinned down by a younger, stronger, more mobile opponent with nearly seven years of training on top of the Black family lessons. She was so focused on holding her shield against the multitude of attacks from the front that she totally missed the whistling coming from behind her. This proved a costly mistake as it impacted the back of her head hard enough to pitch her forward several feet and lose consciousness.

As her aunt fell forward, Andromeda took a moment to assess the situation. All her opponents except Bellatrix were down, but she was weaving between Sirius' spells without apparent effort. As she took in the scene, Bellatrix apparently noticed the lack of other battles going on and began firing at an even greater rate. Sirius, already pressed, made a mistake, stumbling into a _crucio_ and losing an arm to the following _diffindo_. As he fell, trailing blood, Andromeda launched into action, firing curses as rapidly as possible, even as she saw her sister and mother begin to stir…

_END FLASHBACK___

__She hadn't seriously duelled since that day. Not to say she didn't want to, no, her very being vibrated with the need to fight, to prove herself, to win glory for the Black name! Alas, circumstances always seemed to conspire against her, even as the war escalated she still had yet to bloody her wand. Right up until the fall of Voldemort she couldn't find a fight. She'd walk down Knockturn Alley and there'd be Aurors all over the place, the populace unusually subdued. She'd gone looking for Death Eaters on more than one occasion, after friends had died and been wounded, but been unable to find any. It seemed as though the universe was playing a massive joke on her, particularly since everywhere Sirius went he found conflict. As long as he wasn't in her company that is. Jealous husbands and fathers galore tried to kill him, even without counting the Death Eaters seeking favour with their master by ending the troublesome lordling.

She shook away the remeniscences, knowing in her heart of hearts that she would soon enough wade through rivers of blood at her lord's side, bringing the House of Black back to the top of the food chain, where it belonged. She quickly _alohamora_'d the door and slipped inside, freezing in astonishment as she saw a huge muggle backhand a child so hard he flew back, knocking himself unconscious on the table behind him. As another surge of magic rolled up her bond with her lord, she realised with a start that this maltreated five-year-old, lying unconscious on the floor before her, was the next Lord Black. She saw red for a moment _How DARE these beasts treat her lord like this? How DARE Dumbledore put him here? _And in that moment her plans underwent a drastic revision.

"You! WENCH!" the fat man yelled. "I don't know who the _FUCK _you think you are, just waltzing right in, but-"

"_Petrificus totalus._ Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch! Bad enough you hit a child, bad enough that child is a member of the House of Black, but you hit the future Lord Potter-Black! Just how fucking stupid are you really? He is well within his rights to exterminate your line, and suffer no legal repurcussions from it. The Potters might not have done it, but he's the only one of them left now and he's as much Black as he is Potter! I had planned to polyjuice whoever was holding him into a decoy to buy me a few hours to get him out of the country, but I have a much better idea that will begin my lord's revenge. _Finite! Imperio!_"

_Pick up a knife,_ She thought as hard as she possibly could. _a large knife, with a dull point. _She watched as the muggle waddled out of the room. While he was gone, she carefully trimmed some of the boy's hair, dropping it into the vial of polyjuice potion she had with her.

When the muggle returned with the knife, she decided to have a little fun, to watch the look in his eyes as she carried out her plan, so she reparalysed him once he'd dropped the knife and then removed the _imperius_, making sure to leave his jaw open for the potion.

"This is polyjuice potion. Once hair is added to it, it turns you into whoever the hair is from. A little-known effect is that it becomes permanent if you die while under the effects. And what do we have here? A knife with your fingerprints all over it? Naughty naughty." She then tipped the vial of potion down his throat and levitated the knife, pointing it first at his crotch, then raising it to his throat. She waved it back and forth before his eyes, humming a strange tune to herself. "Now, where to make the first stab I wonder? Ah, I know!" and with a wave of her wand the knife embedded itself in his stomach. Her eyes hardened and the knife twisted before pulling out, plunging in again a half-inch to the left and above. This continued until long after he was dead, his torso mutilated beyond recognition, resembling a pulped piece of fruit.

She turned and picked up her lord, cradling the unconscious boy in her arms. "Well Harry, now to get you out of here. Don't worry about a thing, because Auntie Andi is gonna take care of you from now on." At that she turned and walked out, leaving the body in the hallway to be discovered when the other muggles came down for breakfast.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

"Hello, Police?"

"Yes, I was walking my dog down Privet Drive when I saw a man covered in blood walk out of number 4 and drive off."_ You won't be able to cover this one up Dumbledore._

_(A/N):I'm writin this shite primarily for my own amusement, hence the barely-connected series of scenes this fic'll be comprised of, with various cliches surfacing. If other people like it then woopee for them, but I don't really give two shits one way or the other. criticism/suggestions are perfectly welcome, so long as you're civil about it. Flames are discouraged, but enjoyed as long as they're verbose and graphic (ie the sorting hat from Jbern's The Lie I've Lived). I play fast and loose with canon, so if that's your primary complaint, please type it up, print it out, and then shove it right up your arse.__  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:don't own Harry Potter. Obviously.  
_

Harry Potter sat bolt upright, panting heavily. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his cupboard, he was somewhere unfamiliar. The soft sheets underneath him were entirely beyond his sphere of experience, leagues beyond anything he'd ever felt before, and the mattress actually _gave_ under his weight. Luxuriating in this new feeling while he could, sure it'd be taken away any second, it took him a couple of seconds to notice the aristocratic woman sitting by his bed. In the moonlight filtering through the window, she looked somewhat otherwordly, and his breath caught at her beauty. She bore his scrutiny for nearly a whole minute before smiling and beginning to speak.

"It's good to see you awake finally Harry, you've been out for two days."

"Harry? Is… is that my name?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course it is! What did you think your name was?" she said with an odd look on her face.

"Well I wasn't sure whether it was Freak or Boy and Uncle Vernon used them about evenly."

"Oh Harry!" she cried out, sweeping him into her arms, not noticing the way he tensed up at the motion. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you earlier, but Dumbledore put every kind of concealment imaginable on you and it's only thanks to the family bond I was able to find you at all."

"You were… looking for me?" he looked up at her with hope in his eyes.

"Of course! You're family!"

"I am? How? I was told all my family were dead except Aunt Petunia, and that I should be grateful for it."

"They just told you that so you wouldn't try to escape, I'm your aunt Andromeda but call me Andi."

"Okay aunt Andi, do you have a last name? Do I have a last name?"

"Yes and yes, mine is Black even though I'm not supposed to use it anymore, and yours Is Potter-Black."

"Potter-Black?"

"Yes. You see, you had two fathers. The one everyone talks about, James Potter, is dead. The other one, Sirius Black, is in prison, supposedly for betraying him but I don't believe it."

"Two fathers? How does that work?"

"Well, when your fathers met, they swore an oath to share everything, because they were each others' first friend. They later got other friends, but they were never as close to them as to each other. James fell in love with your mother Lily quite early on , but by then he and Sirius had quite a reputation for tag-teaming women and your mother hated the idea of being shared. So since Sirius didn't really love anyone except his cousin and James, he decided to make James happy by snagging him Lily. So they romanced her together, and eventually Lily fell for both your fathers, and Sirius fell for her.

When they got married, Sirius gave her up to James since even though having multiple wives is perfectly legal, multiple husbands is still not accepted, and James fell for her first. They continued sharing her, but in light of the fact most people believe Sirius got your parents killed, they choose to forget that bit of history. When you were born, it was obvious you were James and Lily's son, but Sirius did a ritual that brought you into his family as his own son. He had to give you a new name and they kept it secret, but he registered you as his son and heir Hadrian Black.

And that's where I come in. Sirius made me swear to look after you if anything happened to him and James, but by the time I got to where you'd been, Dumbledore had hidden you away and the name of Black was being spat upon. I disappeared into the muggle world with my daughter and I've been looking for you since then to fulfill my promise."

"Muggle?"

"Non-magical folk. Oh Merlin, don't tell me they didn't tell you about magic?" seeing Harry shake his head, she launched into an explanation. "Basically there are wizards and witches, with magic powers, living in hiding all over the world. There are also magical creatures like unicorns, dragons, leprechauns and many others living in hiding as well.

Now, the major problem is that one of the higher-ups in the magical world, Albus Dumbledore has a major vendetta against the Blacks. With the decline of the Blacks over the last 100 years, his family or rather him, since he's the sole remaining member since he disowned his brother, have risen to power within our society. I'm not sure why he left you with those horrible people, but when I rescued you I faked the death of Harry Potter. Of course that won't help us if someone sees you, since you're quite distinctly James's boy, even without the scar. But we should be able to convince the goblins to help us, in exchange for either money or favours. From now on though, at least until we're ready to take Dumbledore on as a united family, we need to lay low, so do you mind if you use the name Hadrian Black from now on?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. He really liked this woman, but he'd only had a name for five minutes, a link to his parents at last, and now he was having to give it up. He hung his head in defeat. "Okay auntie Andi, I suppose I can live with it."

"Don't worry Harry, we'll still call you Harry in private. Since Hadrian is often shortened to Harry these days, it shouldn't raise too much suspicion."

"We?"

"Oh that's right, my daughter, Nymphadora. She's been buzzing around waiting for you to wake up, she's so excited to have a friend her own age. You'll meet her tomorrow. Now go to sleep." She said, giving him a stern look. "You can ask more questions in the morning."

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

Harry woke the next morning to find a face disconcertingly close to his own. Green eyes stared into ice-blue from only inches away, and Harry found himself entranced when they shifted into a green that exactly matched his own. To say he was shocked when the rest of the face followed suit and he was nose-to-nose with himself in a dress would be an understatement.

"Hello, I'm Nymphadora Black." Said the other Harry. "And you're Hadrian Black! Mum's been looking for you for as long as I can remember! Now that you're with us does it mean we can stop moving around so much? Maybe that way I can make some friends."

Harry's throat felt dry in the face of his chattering doppelganger, partially because the hair of said doppelganger was cycling through colours at a tremendous rate. He fought to get himself under control, recovering from seeing magic, _real magic! _Done right in front of him. "I… I… I think I'd like to be your friend Nymphadora." He eventually managed to stammer out, just as the other him went into a tirade about how much she hated dresses.

"You would?" asked the other him hopefully. There was a sort of full-body shudder and the little girl from before was standing there, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Well… yeah, if that's alright with you." He began uncertainly, gaining confidence as she started to nod rapidly, grinning like a loon. "But I've never had a friend before so I don't know what to do." He said, face falling.

"Well I've never had a friend before either, so we can learn together!" She stated matter-of-factly. "Wanna go play in the garden?"

"Uhm…" he said uncertainly, as hunger pains began to make themselves felt with a vengeance. "Is there any chance we could get something to eat first? If it's not too much trouble?"

"Oh that's right, mum sent me to get you for breakfast, so can we play after that?"

"If that alright with auntie Andi, sure."

Harry followed a chattering Nymphadora down to the breakfast table in a bit of a daze. He had a friend! One Dudley couldn't scare away! He'd only been awake ten minutes and things were looking up already.

When they reached the table, harry found the biggest breakfast he'd ever seen set up, even though he didn't recognise most of it. There were croissants, various fruits, a few different cereals, rashers of bacon, boiled eggs, toast, untoasted bread, muffins and other delicious foodstuffs.

Andromeda greeted them. "Hello Harry, did you sleep well?"

"Yes aunt Andi, it was the best sleep I can remember."

"That's good. Did you think of any more questions you wanted to ask?"

"Only a couple. How are we supposed to eat all this food?"

"Well Harry," began Nymphadora "Mum cooks it all up, but magics it so it stays fresh until consumed. So she only needs to cook about once a week for breakfast lunch and dinner, since it lasts until we eat it all."

"Okay that makes sense in a weird way." Said Harry. "My other question is, where's Nymphadora's dad?"

"He left." Nymphadora said, with no trace of emotion.

"He couldn't handle the whole magic thing. I told him I was a witch after we got married, and he sort of laughed it off. Then Nymphadora was born, and after a couple of months started her shifting, which spooked him a lot. He stuck it out a couple of months, but one day he was just... gone, along with all his stuff. Still," she laughed "I got to keep the rather impressive dowry he never got round to claiming, which is why when we've sorted you out with Gringotts, we're moving home, Harry."

"Home?"

Andromeda smirked evilly. "Home."

_(A/N):can't write convincing kids. not even gonna try._


	3. Chapter 3

The suited goblin seated at the reception desk in the private portkey area glanced up as the wards registered an authorised new arrival. A smirk ghosted across his face, lingering for a split second, as the two children arrived in a flailing tangle of limbs and curses, somehow managing to drag the older woman accompanying them to the ground as well. He quickly pasted a concerned expression across his face, _after all, if what we suspect is true, we can't risk offending these people! _And motioned for one of his guards to help them all up.

Hadrian and Nymphadora, once back on their feet, gawked at everything in sight. The fierce armoured faceplates of the guards, the glistening teak desk, and the ornate carvings littering the walls, detailing everything from glorious battles to, of all things, wedges of cheese, seemingly without rhyme or reason. Andromeda gently placed a hand under each child's jaw and pushed them closed, following it up with a stern look that told them to behave. She took each of their hands and walked over to the desk.

"Greetings to you, Bladebite, from this representative of the Black family. We are here to conduct the business we discussed on my visit last night, if Gringotts still allows it." she began, with a half-bow to the seated goblin.

"Indeed Gringotts allows it, and in light of Master Potter-Black's role in the last war, Lord Ragnok has authorised the procedures to be carried out at half the standard rate, and asked for Master Leechquack, our foremost healer to be allowed to examine Hadrian to see if there are any ill-effects from Mr. Riddle's demise."

"Who?" The three humans chorused, prompting another smirk to flit across his face before he responded.

"I believe you would know him better as the Dark Lord Voldemort." He stated simply, eliciting a gasp from the two women and a puzzled look from Hadrian.

"Why would there be any ill-effects?" asked Andromeda carefully, clenching Hadrian's hand slightly to reassure him.

"Several reasons, Ms Black," Bladebite began, leaning back in his chair and thumbing through a file. "The area in which the… incident took place was saturated with magic, both harmful and benign. It's a little known fact but some spells it is unsafe to come close to, even if they fail to connect. There can be cumulative neurological damage, psychological issues resulting from proximity to a concentration of the negative emotions that fuelled the spell, psychosomatic complications arising from that, and various other effects. This is not an accepted truth outside of Goblin medicine, as humans refuse to see damage lying beneath the surface and have not the long-term view needed to see the correlation when the problems we predicted arise fifty or sixty years later. There is also the lack of a body, which leads some at Gringotts to refer to Mr. Riddle as 'inconveniently discorporated' rather than dead, the fact that we believe he was researching several dark methods of prolonging his life indefinitely, need I go on?"

"No Bladebite, I believe any one of those reasons is quite enough cause for alarm." Andromeda said, unconsciously placing an arm around the children's shoulders and pulling them closer to her.

"Excellent. Do you have any questions?" he said, grinning toothily at the trembling Nymphadora and replacing the file in a drawer.

"I have one actually, Mr Bladebite… err, uh, sir." Harry trotted out nervously, quailing slightly as Bladebite's gaze fell on him.

"And that would be?"

"Why are there so many armoured people in here?"

"They are the guards of Gringotts, and this is a restricted area, so they are here to ensure good behaviour on your part. All portkeys entering the bank are redirected to a chamber similar to this one, and if authorised will conduct business with me or another of Ragnok's secretaries, since this level of security is only available for our most affluent customers. If unauthorised, yet somehow still managing to break through the wards, then the guards will… dispose of the problem."

"Okay sir, that makes sense."

"Indeed. Well, if that is all? Then we are done here. Stoneface!" he called, beckoning to a tall figure with a crossbow, whose armour was both more ornate and more battered than any other guards', with a customised faceplate set in a perpetual blank stare, rather than the scowl the other guards had. "Take them to Master Leechquack, stay with them, and when he declares the male child fit to proceed, take them on to the cosmetic surgeons. Give whichever one is on the desk the message that his procedures are to be effected **immediately**, understand?"

A grunt and muted tilt of the head was all the response he got before Stoneface turned, waved a hand imperiously towards the humans and began to stalk off with a strange, rolling gait, not bothering to check if they were keeping up or not.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

After several minutes of following Stoneface through carpeted hallways filled with bustling goblins going about their business, they came to a large meeting room, dominated by an intricately carved wall. The entire thing seemed devoted to a depiction of a grand battle between wizards and goblins, with the goblins winning everywhere except the centre. In the centre, a dozen indistinct figures, most of them feminine, were shown wreaking terrible havoc on the goblin lines, with bodies littering the ground around them and goblins fleeing them in panic. Above it all was a glowing figure that, in comparison to the rest of the amazingly detailed scene, was amazingly poorly carved, more than anything else a scratched humanoid outline with a yawning maw and gaping eyesockets. Despite it's crudity, it inspired a primal fear that made the humans rock back on their heels before steeling themselves and moving forward. Stoneface paused in front of the wall, bowed to it, and then turned around, rattling off a string of Gobbledegook which garnered only puzzled looks before the chair at the head of the table raised off the ground, revealing a spiral staircase wide enough for two men to walk abreast or, conceivably, two goblins to carry a stretcher down with minimal jostling.

"You go." Stoneface rumbled, startling them as they looked at the stairway. "Warrior… not allowed… unless injure." He stated, the pause between words making it clear he was unfamiliar or at least uncomfortable with English.

Andromeda nodded, motioning for the children to follow her as she started down the staircase. Hadrian paused at the top, unsure of why until he saw Stoneface watching him. Feeling a little foolish, he bowed as he saw one of the other guards they had passed do, with a fist over the breast, and was surprised when Stoneface returned the bow. Confused, he started down the staircase after Andromeda and Nymphadora, left with a sneaking suspicion that he had passed some sort of test.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

Master Leechquack hemmed and hawed, tutting and mumbling under his breath as he cast a dizzying array of diagnostic spells on Hadrian. For his part, the boy seemed uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the doctor and his assistant, but bore it stoically. After one spell, Leechquack stiffened noticeably, and began cursing in Gobbledegook. Waving his arms and shouting at his assistant, the younger goblin nodded and began translating for the wizened healer.

"Master Leechquack says the results are not the best. He says you have very dark magic centred around that scar on your forrid and that he is surprised it has not corrupted you. He also says that you are very powerful, but that subconsciously fighting this magic has led to you only having access to a very small part of your potential power. He believes he has a solution, but he needs to consult with some cursebreakers. Would you like some refreshments?" When they gave an affirmative, he walked over to the wall where Leechquack was whispering excitedly into a tube, and tugged on a bell-pull. A house-elf in a neatly pressed suit, virtually identical to that worn by the bank's teller goblins, appeared, took his order, and left,popping back in a minute later with the requested beverages.

"Master Leechquack apparently believes he has found a solution to this situation. He has a cursebreaker coming in with a squib doctor we keep on the staff, apparently they believe that after a simple procedure you will feel a lot better and be able to proceed on with your business."

As he spoke, a scruffy, scarred goblin dressed entirely in black leather strode into the room, followed by a kindly man in his mid-30's who, upon sighting a bored-looking Nymphadora, immediately pulled a book and lolly out of the briefcase he was carrying and handed them to her.

"Now that everybody's here, we may as well get down to business. Gripledge, if you could explain what exactly we're dealing with here?"

The scarred goblin shifted slightly, before assuming a lecturing position and addressing Hadrian directly.

"It is some fairly foul magic. Not the foulest, but definitely not light magic, not by a long shot. Essentially you have a piece of the Dark Lord's, for want of a better word, soul in your head. You appear to be fighting it, and that has led to both magical and mental development beyond your years, but recent malnutrition and the constant nature of this mental assault leave you slowly losing ground. The reason that one would intentionally split their essence is to attain a sort of immortality, but there is a hidden trick which few ever discover to this magic. It's been around since the time of ancient Egypt, so why are we not neck-deep in immortal evil wizards? Why because the items they imbue with their essence fragments have no life of their own, and so cannot serve as anchors at all.

What happens when a wizard with one or more of these devices dies? Why the essence fragments take on a sort of half-sentience of their own, and become magical objects with a decidedly evil bent. The wizard dies as does anyone else.

The problem for us arises when a living creature is the subject of this ritual, because having a life of its own, the creature **can** serve as an anchor to this plane of existence. There are two things that can happen from there on. Either the soul fragment can be extracted during a ritual to resurrect the wizard, or the wizard can exist as a wraith until the ritual is performed. If the creature dies, then the connection is broken and the wizard will fully die.

Judging from what we know about the Dark Lord, he is unlikely to have used any living vessel on purpose, possessing as he does a total lack of trust in everyone but himself. This tells us that his infusion of his essence into you was an accident, probably caused by some benign magic reacting badly to the mutilated state of his essence and discorporating him. You are the only thing holding the greatest Dark Lord in centuries to this life."

"Gripledge, you're scaring the poor boy!" the human man admonished him. "Pleasure to meet you Hadrian, I'm Dr. Karl Deary, and I'm here to carry out the procedure to get rid of this bit of magic. What we're going to do is stop your heart for thirty seconds, and then restart it. We're confident that that should be long enough to shake the horcrux loose. It would match with the reports from the 4th century, when the Dark Lord Jormungandr's living horcrux froze to death in the snow. He was later revived, but Jormungandr was struck down before he realized he no longer had an anchor to survive death.

Now, shall we begin?" he said, brandishing a syringe filled with a clear liquid.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

_In a forest somewhere in Albania, there was a sudden shriek, and then silence. Animals that had avoided the area for going on four years slowly began to filter back, and though it was still a dark forest, it seemed somewhat lighter now._

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
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_In Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black screamed out and clasped her left forearm, as did dozens of other inmates. She experienced a brief moment of elation, believing her lord had returned to reward her loyalty, but when she looked at her arm, the Dark Mark was gone._

"NO! MY LORD! RETURN TO ME, PLEASE! PLEASE… I… I…" she screamed, before breaking down and crying.

The dementors outside simply glided by dispassionately, but a half-starved dog watched her with an unidentifiable gleam in its eye.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

_At Hogwarts, in the dungeons, Severus Snape hissed in sudden pain and clasped his burning forearm. Was this it? Was this the day he'd be forced to choose between his Lords? To return to the one as a spy? Or beg sanctuary without anything to offer the other? Which was which, anyway? They were so similar that they blurred in his mind. Dumbledore may use words rather than spells, but he was capable of inflicting as much pain as any cruciatus with them, as he well knew._

He lifted his sleeve, preparing to face the music and beg his lord's forgiveness, when he paused. Where once the Dark Mark had marred his pale white skin, there was now an ugly pink scar in its' shape.

He collapsed into a nearby chair and wiped his forehead. He was definitely

not_ telling Dumbledore about this, lest he withdraw his protection from him. Albus needed his spy should the Dark Lord return, and he knew he wasn't all the way dead, because Severus still had his Mark didn't he. His mental gears turning, Severus Snape stared moodily into the fire, and began to plot._

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

"Can we get some sort of power suppressor? Or a dimmer? Or, or, or, _something?_" Andromeda practically shrieked the last bit, losing her famous reserve. "He can't go around _glowing_, he'd get nearly as much attention as he would if he went out undisguised!"

Playing with an awed Nymphadora behind her while the goblins looked on, supremely amused, was Harry who, as she said, was glowing. A steady bright green radiance, extending about an inch in every direction from his body, obscuring his features entirely. He chuckled as he heard Andromeda freaking out behind him. He didn't know why on Earth she was worrying, he felt **GREAT**! Better than he could ever remember feeling, in he could take on an army, and win! Good enough to storm keeps, and crush skulls beneath his feet, and... wait, what? Where did those thoughts come from?

"Not to worry Mz. Black, he's just venting because of the sudden power increase, it's too much for his body to handle at the moment, so it's directing it outwards now that he's not using it to fight that thing in his head. It'll stop on its own in a few days." Leechquack's assistant translated for him. Apparently the old goblin could understand English perfectly, he just refused to sully his tongue by speaking it.

"Right. Yes. Well." Andromeda took a few deep breaths, centreing herself and ignoring the fact that her new son was _glowing_. "Hadrian. Nymphadora. Come on kids, time to make Hadrian an official part of the family."

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

"So Mr. Potter, you've willed everything to Mr. Black, with the stipulation that all accounts bar a trust fund containing one hundred and forty-four thousand galleons go into lockdown until such point as Mr. Black or his descendants is deemed worthy of being Lord Potter. Now that's official, you need only recite this oath and magic itself will do the rest. After that we'll see about your appearance."

"I, Hadrian Sirius Black, do hereby renounce all claim to the identity, name and life of Harry James Potter, may he be dead in the eyes of all. So mote it be!"

Upon conclusion of the first oath, there was a trio of muted thunderclaps, and Hadrian collapsed.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

_meanwhile, at Hogwarts...  
_  
While he was looking through the roster of those rich enough to attend Hogwarts several small devices in Dumbledore's office exploded, stopped spinning, or melted, much to his astonishment. He sat there in shock for a moment before sprinting out of his office to get to the edge of the wards, intending to apparate to Privet Drive, in his panic forgetting he had a phoenix that could take him there directly.

Back in the office, Fawkes briefly contemplated flaming to his master and then flaming him to his destination, before snorting and returning to his slumber.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

When Hadrian awoke after collapsing, he saw the goblin solicitor looking at him with pity, though it was quickly hidden under a mask of indifference once he saw the boy was awake and looking back at him. The solicitor coughed to hide his discomfort and attract the attention of Andromeda.

"Ms Black, I will require several hairs from both you and your daughter for the adoption potion. This will effect a permanent change in his appearance to bring it closer to yours, and thus allow you to claim him as a son. Since your daughter's birth was not registered with the ministry, you could likely register them as fraternal twins should you feel the need. The hair from her will help skew his appearance further towards her own."

As the hairs were placed in the potion, it began to bubble violently, before subsiding. Hadrian looked at it dubiously, then looked at Andromeda and Nymphadora. He was taken aback by the care in their eyes, Nymphadora practically bouncing up and down in her eagerness to gain him as a brother. Then and there he decided that he would do anything for them, and he slugged the potion back in one go.

He shuddered, spasms wracking his frame as his entire body rebuilt itself from the ground up. He shot up several inches, ending up slightly above average for his age. His torso and limbs shifted from being scrawny and malnourished to sleek and streamlined. His hair lengthened, growing down past his backside and becoming wavy, darkening past the light black it was before to almost absorb the light that hit it, and glittering like a deep pool. His eyes shifted, becoming slightly larger and more slanted, but didn't change colour. When the shuddering ceased, he flexed his lengthened fingers experimentally, then caught sight of a newly fine-boned face in the inkwell on the solicitor's desk.

He and the others barely had time to take in his new appearance before his hair and eyes started shifting colours randomly, cycling through the rainbow rapidly, taking on a metallic sheen, cycling through dozens of colours at an astounding rate.

As Harry began to hyperventilate, Nymphadora whooped with joy and Andromeda just stared, bewildered. The solicitor turned to her.

"It would be a safe bet that one of you two is a metamorph, yes? Well young Hadrian now has that ability, in addition to any he had before, since he made no mention of renouncing his powers. Indeed, I would not be surprised if he were as powerful as Dumbledore by his early 20's, since he has his original, not inconsiderable power, the power he absorbed when the essence fragment was destroyed, and if I am not very much mistaken, he gained a rather standard chunk of magic just now, when he was 'born.' It is even possible he will experience multiple magical maturations, but even if he doesn't he will have a staggering amount of power to wield. He'll probably be able to do most spells by just throwing power into them until they work. Which I don't recommend, by the way."

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

Albus Dumbledore appeared outside #4 Privet Drive. Pausing only to transfigure his neon purple robes into a garish pink suit, he made his way to the front door and let himself in. The front room was a mess, selves knocked over, furniture broken, debris everywhere. It was clear to Dumbledore that someone had attacked the Dursleys, but where was Harry? He made his way to the cupboard he had suggested to them Harry sleep in, and opening the door found nothing worth noting.

He stepped back and assessed the situation. The Dursleys (and Harry) were missing. From the looks of the house, they hadn't gone quietly, and they'd been gone for a few days at least. Add to that the fact that all life-signs from one Harry James Potter had ceased to be picked up by his devices, it was clear that the Boy-Who-Lived was dead. There went Dumbledore's poster boy.

"Well, fuck." He muttered, frowning, and disapparated away. Had he waited but a few minutes more, he would've seen two policemen enter the house and damage it further, exacting some small revenge for the most sickening case of their respective careers. The wife was up on abuse charges, the son was in a re-education centre undergoing heavy counselling, and they couldn't find the fat bastard that actually did the deed. They were looking, and when he was found, he might just accidentally fall down some stairs, and run into some doors.

_(A/N):another chapter will probably go up within the next few hours, but then it looks like a dry spell till Wednesday_


	4. Chapter 4

_(A/N):I don't usually do shout-outs of any kind, but there's a fully dope rapper from my city I'd like to recommend for any of you into hip-hop, he goes by the name of Bitter Belief. you can check out some of his work on youtube, I'd particularly recommend "Gossip Girls" and "In Your Mouth"._

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk and pondered the effect that the death of Harry Potter would have on his plans. While losing one of the two children of prophecy was bad enough, losing Neville would have been tolerable. Losing the one he'd spent the last few years hyping incessantly to the public was a PR nightmare. Who could he sacrifice to ensure his hands remained clean? No-one. He'd made quite sure the entire world knew Dumbledore was the one looking out for the future Lord Potter's welfare, and obliviated anyone who came too close to finding out the truth of the matter.

He considered the other child, Neville. He hadn't acted to remove him from Augusta's influence yet because she was doing exactly what he had placed Harry with the Dursleys for: conditioning him to defer to authority. In her desire to recreate her son, she would crush any trace of independent thought in the Longbottom scion, which suited Dumbledore perfectly. He had wanted the boys to be meek and biddable when they arrived at Hogwarts, the better to use and discard. He sighed. He'd just have to deal with only having one of the boys he wanted. Still, better safe than sorry. Augusta might join the dots and realise that both the Potters and the Longbottoms (as well as many others) had trusted him with their safety and come to a sticky end. He couldn't take the chance of her turning Neville against him. Deluding himself into believing he did so with a heavy heart, he sent a missive to some unsavoury characters he'd dealt with in the past, containing some very specific instructions.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
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_A month later_

Despite his grandmother's disgruntled muttering , Neville Longbottom was enjoying his day out. He was feeling the wind ruffle his hair, and the slight grin as he savoured his time off the Longbottom manor grounds. They were meant to be meeting Dumbledore here, but Neville had no idea why he'd told them to meet him in such an out-of-the-way place.

He ambled around happily, soaking in the sunshine as his grandmother eyed him suspiciously, ensuring he didn't wander off. Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, the ground next to his grandmother exploded, throwing her off the rock she was sitting on and showering the clearing with superheated dirt. Wide-eyed, Neville obeyed the instructions she had drilled into him repeatedly in the past and faded from sight into the tall grass around the clearing. From there he climbed slowly, stealthily up a tree to see what was going on.

He suppressed a gasp at the scene that met his eyes when he parted the leaves of the tree he was sitting in. Four men dressed as Death Eaters stood around his trussed grandmother, wands pointed at her menacingly.

"Let's try this again you old harpy." Said the tallest, a definite promise of pain in his words. "The boy is…?"

She laughed bitterly, coughing after a few seconds before hacking a gob of bloody phlegm onto his shoe, meriting a kick in the ribs from him

"Fuck… you…" she gasped out, painfully. "and fuck Dumbledore too, for setting this up. He's done enough damage to my family, and one day he'll be repaid, even if it takes the entire Longbottom fortune and the lives of a nation, _he will pay._"

The tall one gave a theatrically exaggerated yawn. "Are you quite finished? Good. Now, again. Where is the boy?" He stared down at her for a few seconds, before smirking and raising his wand again. "_Crucio._"

Neville had to clamp his hands over his ears to block out the screams, and he bit down on a branch to keep from whimpering or screaming himself. To hear about what had been done to his parents was one thing, but to see it happening to your only remaining family was another thing entirely.

When the echoes of her screams had died out, the tall man spoke again. "Well? I'm _waiting!_"

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_  
Neville felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't left the tree all day, he'd sat there and tried to block the screams from his head. Eventually they'd tired of _crucio_ing her, long after it became obvious she was too stubborn to break, so the leader had levelled his wand at her face and _reducto_'d her, point blank.

After they'd disapparated, he'd waited another two hours in the tree to see if they'd come back, and when they hadn't, he dropped to the ground and padded over to the body of his last remaining family member.

He was alone in the world.

Dropping to his knees, he cried himself out on her corpse. By the time he had run out of tears, he realized he was in the middle of nowhere, with no way home and nowhere to go to. He mentally dredged up memories of his grandmother's various all-purpose contingency plans, discarding this one or that because they required her to rescue him when they'd run their course. After much deliberation, he decided to execute the tentatively-titled Operation Orphan, whereby he would make his way to a muggle police station, tell them that his grandmother had been killed in the woods and give them directions back there, get sent to an orphanage or foster home, and then bide his time till he could get to Gringotts. He winced at the thought of how much the goblins would charge to hide him, when an alternative occurred to him. If he could make it there, then he could get in touch with one of the Longbottoms' allies and seek asylum with them.

He shimmied to the top of a tree, noted the direction the lights of the nearest city was, and tiredly set out towards it, marking his trail with scratches in trees as he went.

Half an hour into his trek the flaw in his plan occurred to him and he groaned resignedly. The Longbottoms' allies were also Dumbledore's allies for the most part, and given the power the old man wielded when he wanted to, it was all to likely he would be relinquished without a second thought if Dumbledore asked for him. It was too bad the only Potter left was only his age, he mused, since their families had been allied for time immemorial, predating the names the families currently bore. His blood ran cold as he realised that Harry Potter was, if rumour were to be believed, in a home chosen by Albus Dumbledore. All hope of sanctuary with him or his guardians went out the window, but he had a new goal: to break his ally out of wherever he was kept and escape with him.

This resolution lasted the four days of walking it took for him to reach the city outskirts, and when he grasped a flying newspaper, intending to use it as fuel for a fire since he couldn't feel his fingers, he glanced atthe front page and gasped.

_**Grisly murder of orphan boy by relatives shocks nation  
**__-By James Lam_

_The murder of Harry Potter will go down as one of the most brutal killings in British history. Harry Potter (5),lived with his Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley from an early age. Why this is so is unknown, as there is no record whatsoever of the Dursleys receiving or applying for guardianship over him. The Dursleys beat and starved Harry "for being a freak, with freak parents!" their child gleefully told interviewers repeatedly, and the evidence gathered from Mrs. Dursley shows no more concrete reason than his supposed freakishness. Matters came to a head late last week whenpolice responded to an anonymous tip and found Mrs. Dursley dragging a mutilated body out of a boot cupboard in their house, which investigation has shown was Harry's Dursley, who apparently committed the murder as well as most of the physical abuse, has so far not been found…_

The paper fell from Neville's nerveless fingers. The Potter line was dead. He was the last of the Longbottoms. An alliance that had stood the test of over two thousand years of war and politics was no more, destroyed by Dumbledore's scheming and manipulations. So caught up in his anger and grief was he that he didn't notice the policeman walking towards him.

"You alright there son?" the policeman said gruffly, eyeballing the scruffy and… blood-covered child. He did a double-take, the boy was absolutely covered in dried blood, practically from head to toe.

"Alright?" Neville gave a mirthless laugh, one that sent a shiver down the copper's spine. A child had no business with a laugh so old and full of anguish. "I escape a kidnap attempt, only to be forced to watch my only living relative's capture and subsequent torture to divulge my location. I then witness her execution. I walk four days through the forest with no food, rest or water, only to discover that an alliance extant since two families shared a boat fleeing the ravages of Rome has been sundered by the final end of one of those families. So no, officer, I'm far from alright."

He turned around, and the copper was struck dumb by the depth of the child's eyes. Sunken and gaunt were the two words that sprung immediately to mind, but the darkness in those eyes swirled and shone with a frightening intensity.

"Right. Well. Do you have a name lad?" he asked, his innate kindliness taking over. That was after all why he had wandered over, to see if the boy was alright, staring off into space like he was high off his tits. He hadn't expected anything like this.

"Call me… call me Nicolas Greenthumb." He said with a smirk, which quickly ghosted into a sad smile. His grandmother had taken to berating him using that name whenever she caught him "_grubbing in the dirt like a muggle_" as she'd put it. But she never would again.

His fists clenched and he shook in fury. In his head stormclouds gathered and he screamed his defiance of Dumbledore at them. _ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, _he howled, _I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!_

(A/N):chances are the next chapter will open with the Hogwarts Express, or possibly a summation of the years in between now and then. I may just go back later and fill in the blanks as the mood takes me, or even set it up as a series of omakes published as a seperate story, I haven't decided yet.  



	5. Chapter 5

_I know I haven't been doing disclaimers, but is it really necessary to mar the beginning of each chapter with them? I mean it's all part of one long run-on story, and I already placed a disclaimer at the beginning. Just pretend it's at the top of each chapter.****_

5 years later

Platform 9 ¾

"Now look after your sister while you're at school Hadrian. She may be crafty, but she isn't as tough or stubborn as you so you'll have to shield her if things get bad. Anything that might cause her harm I want you to neutralise or keep an eye on. She'll be watching for anything you miss, but stay alert because we are not popular with the light and, once your beliefs come out we won't exactly be popular with the dark either. Remember not to underestimate Malfoy, no matter how stupid he seems. Cissy always liked to come across as vapid and shallow too."

"Yes mum!" the nearly-identical boy and girl chorused happily, hugging her tightly before shouldering their packs and moving towards the train.

Neville Longbottom watched them from about ten meters away with no small amount of longing, though it was impossible to tell from the impassive mask covering his face. While his adoptive mother was kind, and he truly loved her for healing what little of his heart she'd been able, it hadn't been possible for her to accompany him here. He hated hiding who he was, and the fact that he had to hide her very existance grated considerably. For a moment hatred burned in his eyes as he looked out over the platform at the various families dropping off their children, and those who his gaze crossed felt an inexplicable shiver run down their spines.

Wishing he'd thought to get a bottomless pack like the twins he'd seen, he lifted his trunk once more, grunting slightly with the effort, and walked off to find somewhere to sit.

As he walked, he caught sight of his reflection, and stopped to make sure his disguise was firmly in place. His "new" mother had "brought him up to scratch" as she put it, leading to him looking more like a third-year than a first year. His muscles fairly bulged under his shirt, he was head and shoulders taller than any other first year he could see, and he could hear the approving murmurs from the witches he passed. He snorted, if only they knew they were checking out an eleven year-old, they'd shut up, or at least be a bit less obvious. He shook his head to flick his platinum dreadlocks out of his eyes for what felt like the millionth time. He hated the hair, but he had to admit that he looked nothing like a Longbottom now.

He approached one of the end carriages, hoping to find it empty. When he opened it though, he found two sets of twins inside, staring at each other. At the far end of the compartment was a pair of slightly older redheaded boys, while just inside the doorway, wands pointed at them, were the twins Neville had watched being dropped off. As he assessed the situation, he noticed that the redheads, obviously Weasleys, were holding a large crate containing a truly obscene number of dungbombs, while the wands pointed at them had the tips glowing with spells ready to launch. As everyone turned to him, the redheads dropping the crate of dungbombs in surprise, Neville realised belatedly that he'd walked into the wrong compartment.

Time froze as everyone realised what was about to happen, then the dark-haired twins turned back quickly and sent simultaneous hovering charms at the crate. Unfortunately the result of this was the crate flying up and exploding against the roof of the compartment, leaving a slowly sinking cloud of stench. The redheads glanced at each other, nodded and then threw something hard against the ground. A bright flash later, and they were gone. _Heh, _thought Neville with a smirk. _ginger ninjas._

After they'd vacated the compartment, the twins looked at each other and went to introduce themselves to him, but he was already gone. Shrugging, they went to find an empty compartment.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

Hadrian and Nymphadora sat in an empty compartment, staring just to the left of each other's eyes. This was because they were testing their latest attempt at silent communication with their metamorph abilities. They each had a mole next to their left eye, and they were raising and lowering it to form messages in Morse code.

_This-is-really-really-really-slow-dude, _morsed Nymphadora.

_Well-it-was-your-idea-numbnuts,_ Harry replied. _Besides-it's-not-like-either-of-us-has-come-up-with-anything-better._

_True-true_ came the reply, just as the cabin door slid open, revealing a bushy-haired girl.

"Is it alright if I sit in here?" she asked. "Only this is the first compartment I've found with no older kids in it."

"Sure, as long as you're quiet and don't interrupt our competition." They both replied, after a single glance ascertained the girl wasn't a threat.

"Competition?"

"Staring competition. The first one to show emotion or break eye contact without mutual agreement loses."

"Oh. Isn't that a little bit infantile?"

"Well seeing as we've been playing it since we were children, I suppose so."

"Could you stop talking in unison now please?"

Hadrian winked at his sister, then shifted his hair to a white blonde. Watching Nymphadora follow suit, he gave himself glowing blue eyes, then they both turned to her and intoned "But we like it. Won't you join us?"

The look of horror and bewilderment that planted itself on the young girl's face was too much for Nymphadora, who promptly cracked up laughing, shifting back to her natural form as she did so. Hadrian followed her example, shifting back with a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

"We're just messing with you, come on in and have a seat. Don't mind my sister, she'll recover in a minute. I'm Hadrian Black, by the way, and this laughing cretin is my sister Nymphadora."

"I'm Hermione Granger. That was an interesting piece of magic you two did there, can you teach it to me?"

"Granger? Muggleborn right?" at her nod he continued. "Right, well sorry but you have to be born to it. Even amongst the old families there are pretty much none with the ability, and no new family lines have manifested the ability in almost a thousand years."

"Oh." The girl looked crestfallen. Then she perked up, annoyingly fast in his opinion. "What house do you think you'll be in? I want to be in Gryffindor! It produced Professor Dumbledore!"

Hadrian traded a knowing glance with Nymphadora. Dumbledore? A Gryffindor? The very idea was laughable, no Gryffindor had the patience or ability to compromise that politics required, they were war leaders, with strong morals and beliefs. The problem was so few of Dumbledore's contemporaries were alive and kicking, some due to Grindlewald and some due to Voldemort, but most simply due to the passing of time. As such, he could say whatever he wanted about his school years.

"WE think we'll be in Hufflepuff." Nymphadora cut off the scathing reply about to fall from Hadrian's lips, with a warning glare. "Loyalty is the greatest virtue espoused by the houses, and Hufflepuffs keep our world running through their hard work."

"But Gryffindor is the greatest house, Professor McGonagall said-"

"This would be the same McGonagall that is head of Gryffindor house, am I correct?" Hadrian asked, with the beginnings of a sneer gracing his features. Christ almighty, this girl really was gullible wasn't she?

"Well yes, but I don't think she'd-"

"Show a bias? Of course she would. Every student that goes into her house is a student denied her competitors, and thus more power for her own personal use. As their head of house, she can foster good relations with them and use that to influence students once they're out in the world. All the heads do it, but Slytherin and Gryffindor have historically been most likely to play power games and compete for students.

Judging by your reference to Dumbledore's supposed Gryffindor placement, the only records of which would be available to newly-discovered muggleborns are in Dumbledore's autobiography and Hogwarts:A History, you're an avid reader. Your desire to learn how we changed our hair and eye colour paints you as curious, willing to learn anything you can get your hands on. You'd benefit whatever house had you simply through dragging up the points earned in class, but you'd also likely skew the grade average of any house except Ravenclaw, who haven't had any serious academic competition since the end of the 50's. Now, thanks to McGonagall, you're shying away from the house that edifies knowledge and study towards a house with no outstanding students other than Lily Evans in the last 200 years. Her year had the only Gryffindor class that averaged a pass in their N.E.W.T.'s in the last eighty years, and it was primarily due to her either pulling the average for a class up with her score, or helping other students study. McGonagall is hoping you're the next Lily Evans."

"And that's not even really going into the students themselves." Nymphadora interjected, not noticing how badly Hermione was trembling under this onslaught of new information that contradicted what she'd read and been told before. "Gryffindor is filled with the intellectual dregs. Not that they're all stupid, but many of them aren't motivated towards schoolwork, instead going into careers that are more hands-on, like quidditch, or dragon taming, like the eldest Weasley boys. This means you'd either be ostracised within the house for being smarter than them, or they'd use you for answers and essays. Either would be bad for you, but still better than Slytherin, where they'd tear strips off you for your blood status _and_ leech off your hard work."

"YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO HOLD ME BACK!" Hermione shrieked, startling both of them out of their lecture. "WELL I'LL SHOW YOU, I DON'T NEED FRIENDS, I'LL BE IN GRYFFINDOR AND OUTSTRIP DUMBLEDORE HIMSELF!"

With that she ran out of the compartment, slamming the door behind her. Hadrian turned to Nymphadora and simply stated "She's got _issues._" receiving a nod in agreement.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_

After arriving in Hogsmeade and being shown to the boats by a veritable mountain of a man, the two of them found themselves sharing their vessel with another set of twins, who introduced themselves as Parvati and Padma Patil. After some short discussion on the journey, and a rather amusing incident where yet another Weasley fell into the lake (claiming he was pushed), they found themselves standing in an entrance chamber waiting for McGonagall to fetch them for the sorting.

While they waited and Nymphadora chatted with Padma and Parvati, Hadrian took the time to assess the other first years, determining who would be a threat to them and who was a possible ally.

_The Bones heiress and her friend, the Abbot girl maybe?- could prove useful in the future, Amelia is the head of the DMLE and could probably help if we decided to take the legal route. _He gave a small mental snort. _Like that would ever happen!_

_The eldest Greengrass girl- a definite possibility, they're wealthy in their own right and neither dark nor one of Dumbledore's patsies. Worth looking into._

_Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle- not really a threat, but not an ally unless their fathers could be neitralised early enough. Malfoy shows a glint of cunning, though it's hidden under layers of arrogance and childishness. His pet trolls are useless without his guidance, if he's neutralised they might be recruitable._

_The huge blonde kid from the train- an unknown quantity._ Harry frowned. _That's not good. He's quick, and quiet. He'd have some occlumentic shielding, either natural or trained, the detached expression on his face is a dead giveaway. Wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley though, he's got potential. Treat with caution till more is known._

The Granger girl- intelligent, but malleable, as the professors have already discovered. Already slanted against us, but with time she may come around. She'll find it hard enough to find work being a muggleborn once she leaves here, at this rate it's not worth expending too much effort on her, but nor is it worth neutralising her. If she ends up in Gryffindor or Slytherin she'll do that for us anyway.

The rest of them he dismissed, having identified the key figures at the moment. Several others had potential, but would take some time to mature and join the game.

Just as he finished assessing everyone, McGonagall returned and ushered them into the great hall. As they filed between the tables, they caught sight of a hat sitting on a stool before the school.

_**[insert hat's song from first book here]**_

McGonagall unfurled a scroll and called out the first name.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

The girl Hadrian had seen talking to the Bones girl walked unsteadily up to the stool, before putting the hat on her head. It lingered for but a moment before yelling "**HUFFLEPUFF!**"

"Black, Hadrian!"

The hall filled with whispers. _"I thought they were all dead!" "Buncha no-good dark bastards they are!" "Oh my Gawd do you think he's related to that horrible Sirius Black?"_

Steeling himself against the buzz of conversation his name had started, he walked forward, oozing confidence from every pore. Putting the hat on, he was quite surprised to hear a voice in his head.

_"Well well well, Harry Potter-Black eh? Now that __**is **__interesting. You're supposed to be dead."_

That's got_** nothing**__ to do with the sorting you ratty jizz-rag, and if you breathe so much as a fucking __**peep**__ of it to anyone, especially Dumbledore, then we'll see how fireproof you are! No-one fucks with me and mine._

_"Very well Master Black, I meant no offense. I'm bound by the magic of Hogwarts not to communicate what I hear in your heads to anyone, even the headmaster, so your Aunt and you are safe from that avenue of discovery at least. Now, I believe your familial loyalty will be appreciated in..."_

"**Hufflepuff!**"

As the table to the left of centre began to slowly applaud and Hadrian started towards it, the whispers subsided. However they started right back up again when Nymphadora's name was called out. As he reached his seat, Hadrian turned around and glared at the hat. Those at the end of the tables swore they saw it gulp, and it barely touched Nymphadora's head before screaming out "**HUFFLEPUFF!"** slightly frantically.

As she bustled over to her brother, the whispers increased, until a glare from Hadrian silenced them. Even many of the teachers quailed slightly under the sheer intensity of the stare, Dumbledore's only visible reaction being a slight narrowing of the eyes.

_(A/N):sorry for short chapter made of fail, updates will be slow from now on cause I'm starting a new job. If possible I'll update again on Saturday.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

Worthless update today, needed to get this scene out there cause it's given me nothin but grief. Sorry this has taken so long to get out, you can blame a combination of writer's block, twelve hour shifts, and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya for my slow-arse writing. From now on, since I've settled in a bit at my new job, updates will (hopefully) occur every week to two weeks. If not, assume I spent the time doing speed and trying to unleash the zombie apocalypse._  
_

_Fuck. _Hermione Granger mentally cursed. _Looks like they were right about Gryffindor, if those Weasleys I met on the train are any indication. To steer clear of their misbegotten house would be to admit my error, yet to continue on this course would needlessly cripple me, ceaselessly fending off the rabble of the Lions. Hufflepuff is of course out, and I don't like the looks of those Slytherins… Looks like it'll have to be Ravenclaw, and I'll play nice with the Blacks until I can stand against them openly._

So absorbed in her musings, she missed the fact that McGonagall had called her name three times and was glaring at her. As such, it came as a total shock when Ron Weasley nudged her in the ribs with his elbow, which resulted in her spinning round and breaking his nose with her palm. Taking some small pleasure from watching the filthy boy drop to the ground, bleeding and crying, she refocused only to realise most of the Great Hall was staring at her in shock.

Putting on her best innocent face, she asked "Oh, is it my turn now?" and fairly skipped up to the stool.

She was slightly put out by the fact that she had to lift the hat up onto her own head, as McGonagall had bustled down to tend to Weasley, and vowed silently to repay her for the indignity at the earliest opportunity.

"_Vowing revenge are we? Against a teacher, no less. And, oh Godric… you're planning to take those two on? You're sure you don't want to be in Slytherin? That's a very ambitious goal you've set yourself there, you don't comprehend what you're getting yourself into. Look up the Blacks in the private library in-"  
__**"RAVENCLAW!" **_

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SCENE BREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

_"Greenthumb, Nicolas!"_

He walked silently up to the stool, ignoring the whispers that followed in his wake. _**Christ, he's a first year? He's fuckin huuuuge!**_

The Hat's voice rang out in his mind. _"Another son of a dead family in hiding? It never rains but it pours I suppose. I see you're willing to die for your vengeance, but are you willing to live for the Longbottoms? If necessary, would you forgo your vengeance in order to resurrect the family name?"_

"Why?"

came Nicolas' silent reply. _"Let it end with me. The Potters are dead, there are none the Longbottoms can trust. Let the name die in a blaze of glory, avenging our sullied honour."_

"The Potter line ended, you say? Well, far be it from me to say you nay, however I believe you may be interested in young Mr. Black, and he in you. Let him know about your identity somewhere the Headmaster can't listen in, and make sure you tell him I;m not against him. To that end you better be"  
**"HUFFLEPUFF!"**


End file.
